


Revelations

by TheResurrectionist



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Injustice: Gods Among Us
Genre: Dark, Dark Bruce Wayne, Grief/Mourning, Injustice Remix, M/M, Regime/Insurgency, The Author Regrets Everything, batfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheResurrectionist/pseuds/TheResurrectionist
Summary: The Joker does to Batman what he did to Superman in Injustice canon. Bruce watches as his city explodes, with his kids and Gordon and Alfred all in it. He snaps, and kills the Joker - and then he plans.Because this can never happen again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a trillion to kitsunesongs for letting me try my hand on this prompt! *glances at the Last of us* now I have two injustice fics to keep me busy. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

"Kinda early for flash-bang grenades, isn't it?"

Bruce didn't look up as Dick strode into the cave, counting under his breath. He packed the last grenade into the case, snapping it shut.

"You mean late."

"You've been up all night?"

He shrugged. Dick sent him a  _look,_ crossing his arms. They faced off over the table. Bruce finally glanced away, a smile twisting his lips.

"Yeah. We were off-world all of yesterday…"

Bruce trailed off as Dick closed the space between him, dragging him into a hug. He smiled as the exhaustion of the night hit him suddenly, swaying against his son.

"You're an idiot," Dick said into his shoulder, but he was smiling. "I don't know if I should feed you or beat you into bed."

"Neither." Bruce disengaged from the hug reluctantly, turning back to the grenades. "The League got a tip out in Metropolis. A few hours from now. Still have one last mission before I punch out for the week."

Dick frowned, obviously displeased. He leaned against the table, tapping at the steel absently. "You haven't slept in days _._ Besides, everyone wants to see you. Can't Supes take this one?"

"I'm not leaving the team," Bruce said, the familiar argument sliding from memory. He walked towards the showers, shrugging off the stained undershirt he'd been wearing. Dick followed him, arms crossed. "You know I can't--"

"--show weakness," the younger man finished, rolling his eyes. "I know. You've told me a million times."

"Doesn't make it untrue." Bruce turned on the shower, raising an eyebrow at his son. "Are you going to yell at me while I'm naked, too?"

Dick uncrossed his arms, amused.

"No, I guess I'll just practice my rebuttals with Alfred," he said, walking towards the door. "He says they're getting better, by the way."

"Fascinating. Keep up the good work."

He stepped out of his pants, smiling at the wall as the door slammed behind Dick. Exhausted as he was, the quick exchange was the most alert he'd been in days.

Upstairs, something landed against the floor with a loud  _thud._ He winced, bracing himself against the shower wall in case anything decided to fall through the ceiling. It wouldn't be the first time. He could already hear Damian and Tim screaming at each other, despite the feet of soundproofing around the Cave.

The thought of sitting at a table between Damian and Tim was unappealing at best, most days. Now, he wanted nothing more than to watch as they attempted to kill each other over breakfast.

 _Forty-eight hours in space has a strange way of changing one's perspective,_ he thought, grabbing for the soap.

He finished his shower quickly, toweling off in the open tile room. He dressed in sweatpants and an old Gotham High t-shirt, not bothering with socks. The feeling of being clean and stretched out was practically euphoric.

He climbed the stairs slowly, savoring the burn in his calves. He made a mental note to eat extra protein at breakfast, wondering what Alfred had on the menu for later. There was enough time for something small, at least. He'd have to head back to the Watchtower sooner than later.

The breakfast table was its usual disaster when he walked into the kitchen. Alfred was flipping pancakes at the stove, dressed in a smart white apron. Jason was at his elbow, leaning against the counter.

He'd grown again. Bruce made a note to stand nearby and compare their heights one of these days.

 _You know he's not a kid anymore,_ he thought fondly, watching as Jason flicked chocolate chips at the unflipped pancakes.  _Even if you want him to be._

"Father!"

Bruce turned to find Damian in front of him, hand outstretched. The boy hesitated, fingers withdrawing, almost like he hadn't meant for him to see the gesture.

"Your absence was noted," Damian said severely, ignoring Tim's eye roll.

Bruce grinned, grabbing for him. Damian looked affronted as he was gathered into a hug, but he relaxed against Bruce's shoulder, muttering into his shirt.

"You're next," the billionaire told Tim and Jason over Damian's head. "Teenagers still get hugs."

Alfred set a glass on the table in front of him. Bruce set Damian down, reaching for the protein shake. Jason frowned as he downed the contents in one gulp, eyeing the green liquid dubiously.

"You can't eat your meal in solid form like the rest of us?"

Bruce set the glass down, wiping his mouth. "Wanna give it a try?"

"Pass."

"It's delicious. Ask Alfred."

Alfred turned towards the stove, lips pursed. Wisely, he remained silent, flipping the first three pancakes onto a nearby plate.

Bruce smirked, taking a seat next to Tim. Damian hopped on a stool next to him.

"Grayson has a date tonight," he said casually, "He asked me to take his patrol."

Dick ducked his head, digging in the refrigerator. "Thanks for the subtlety, Damian. Really appreciate it."

"A date," Bruce said, as Jason snickered into his hand. "With who?"

" _Barbara_." Tim supplied scandalously. "Jim Gordon's daughter."

"Barbara Gordon," Bruce said, surprised. He looked at Dick, who was still halfway into the fridge--and apparently considering trying to jump into it. "Are you taking her somewhere nice?"

"We're just getting coffee," Dick muttered, ignoring Tim's scoff. "It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal if it's  _Barbara Gordon._ "

"Hush," Alfred said to Tim, a plate of pancakes in his hands. "Get your elbows off the table, young man, or you won't see a crumb of these."

Tim whipped his elbows off the countertop, lightning-fast. Damian snickered next to him. Bruce hid a smile, glancing at Dick. The younger man returned his gaze evenly, shutting the fridge.

He was older now. Bruce could see it in the lines of his face, and in the width of his shoulders. Growing up.

_So damn fast…_

"Tim, you can take his patrol," he announced, getting a thankful look from Dick, hidden quickly. "There's something strange happening up by Crawford. I wanted someone to check on it. Jason and Damian, you can take one of the cars. It's a decent drive, so get some sleep ahead of time."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

Bruce hid another smile, a wave of exhaustion battering at his mind. He braced a hand against the formica, willing the dizziness away. Tim was watching him when he looked up, frowning.

"Elbows off the table," he said, deflecting.

"They  _are_ off!"

"Tim."

" _Fine_!"

* * *

" _Watchtower Annex,"_ a pleasant voice said above his head, " _Please watch your step._ "

He pushed out of the zeta tube, ignoring the warning. A blur crossed into his path, sending him careening to the right.

Clark put his arms out, catching them at the last second. Bruce grunted, steadying himself. He ignored the proffered hand.

"Whoah," the Kryptonian said, in true Kansan fashion. "Someone's in a hurry. You okay?"

Bruce stepped backwards, waving off his help. "I'm fine."

"I didn't think you'd make it back for this last one," Clark said, with a tilt of his head. They began walking towards the conference room, no agreement needed. "No one would have minded if you sat this one out."

The glare he sent was enough to have Clark backing off, hands raised. "Just saying, B."

"I said I was fine," he replied, "And you need someone for logistics if we're headed downtown."

Clark shrugged, taking it well. "Then I guess we're lucky to have you."

" _Hmmph_."

"Beyond lucky."

Bruce grunted, not appreciating his tone.

" _Blessed_ , in fact, to have you." Clark was smiling, a shit-eating grin Bruce only saw right before battle, when their blood was running hot. "C'mon, your majesty. Let's get in there before Diana starts without us."

They stopped in front of the conference room doors. Bruce sighed, rubbing at his neck.

"You seated me next to Jordan again."

Clark peeked into the room, squinting. "I did."

"I'm going to--"

There was a gush of air as the other man super-speeded into the room, leaving him alone in the hallway.

"--kill you," he finished for the empty hallway. Inside, he could see Jordan's grin already out in full force. "One of these days, Clark, I swear to God. I'll do it."

* * *

" _\--left side, there's an opening_ ," Alfred said in his ear. "Move.  _Now_."

Bruce dove for the rubble, head tucked low. He grabbed the last pair of civilians, pushing them towards the shattered exit door. Across the warehouse, the gangsters continued to fire at them, their shots veering wildly.

Outside, he could hear Clark and Diana dealing with Penguin's latest bomb-related invention. Arthur and Barry were farther north, still evacuating civilians. Jordan was above them, providing cover as the bombs rained down.

" _There's too many_ ," he heard Clark say, sounding frustrated. " _I need to take them up before they blast this whole block to rubble."_

Diana made an agreeing noise. Bruce dove outside in time to see them lifting off, arms full with the tiny bombs. He jumped off the protruding windowsill, coasting down to the street.

" _That's the last of them,_ " Alfred said, " _Heat signatures have one more civilian, maybe two at the far corner."_

Bruce tapped his comm as he landed, the sidewalk jarring under his boots. "Acknowledged. Going in."

Metropolis had finally fallen into darkness around him. The mission had quickly snowballed into indecisiveness and monotonous fighting. S.T.A.R. labs hadn't been burglarized; it was merely a distraction for Penguin's latest toys, as they'd soon found out.

He flipped on his heat lenses, squinting as his sight adjusted. Sure enough, there were two signatures on the corner, crouched behind some rubble.

 _Why didn't they run?_ Bruce thought, creeping over towards them.  _This whole block is a minefield._

He could see a woman crouched behind the blown-out windows of a demolished car. She wasn't moving.

He knelt next to her, grabbing for her shoulder.

"Ma'am, you need to--"

The shoulder in his hand jerked. The woman turned, lightning-fast, her hair a blur. Something sprayed across his face, and he inhaled without thinking, choking.

The world blurred out of focus. Something half-familiar filled his senses. He clenched his fists as his adrenaline spiked, panic racing through his veins.

" _He's here--"_

The woman moved, disappearing behind something he couldn't see. A bright light appeared, overloading the goggles. He tore them off, fingers scrabbling at bare skin.

Joker's face was inches from his nose, looming. He flinched backwards, nearly toppling over. Alfred's voice was distant in his ear, indecipherable.

 _Fear toxin,_ he thought sluggishly,  _It's fear...toxin...I need to...need to…_

His heart jumped as Harley Quinn stepped beside the Joker, grinning wide. Behind her, the doors opened into a small room. There was a body sprawled across the table, stirring. Wires trailed from its chest, fresh blood splattered across the floor.

 _Dick,_ was his last coherent thought, panic ripping through his mind,  _Dick--_

His vision blurred again. He was kneeling in rubble. He was kneeling on asphalt. He was in the suit. He was wearing thin dress pants, cold against the sidewalk. He was young again. He was--

Joe Chill was standing above him, a pistol in his hand. His mother was cowering behind him, her arms raised. His father was on the ground, bleeding from his chest.

Time slowed down, stuttering to a halt.

He rose, fists clenched, his heart pounding. The roar he let out wasn't human. His hands swung out, seeking flesh.

Chill groaned as the first hit landed, head snapping sideways. The gun went flying into the street. He could hear his mother gasping behind him, saying his father's name, over and over again--

His fist swung out again, catching Chill in the solar plexus. He ducked the sloppy counter, grabbing the man's arm and bringing it down over his knee. Chill screamed as his elbow dislocated, face twisting--

_have to get him down, have to get them out--_

His mind was a fragment, a shattered piece of rage. He swung out, again and again, until Chill's face was a bloody mess. Until his knuckles went numb, hitting skin that gave way to muscle, tearing and bulging until Chill was blood, nothing more.

" _Bruce_ ,  _please--_ "

He flipped into a kick, catching Chill across the ribs. The man finally went down, gasping as blood dribbled from his lips.

" _BRUCE!"_

He leaped forward, straddling Chill. He reached for the man's neck, grabbing it between his hands. He lifted the head up--

 

_Dick's face was pressed between his hands, bloodied and swollen._

" _...please…" he slurred around the remains of his mouth, "...Bruce,_ please--"

Joe Chill smiled around broken teeth.

"Do it."

_Dick's eyes were wide. He choked on blood, moaning softly._

" _Dad,_ please- _-_ "

 

\--and  _twisted._

* * *

Clark landed a few meters behind Bruce, wiping soot off his cape. The bombs had been neutralized quickly. Diana was taking care of the last dozen somewhere in the stratosphere above them.

The sounds of a fight reached him, low and vicious. Bruce was on top of someone in the rubble, his fists slamming down again and again. His face was twisted in rage, bare and splattered in blood.

Clark froze at the display of violence, his mind racing.

_Bruce--_

His stomach dropped as he heard a familiar heartbeat, turning away from the fight. The Joker was a few feet away, cackling at the scene. He had a camera in one hand, filming.

In a second, he was across the rubble. He had the Joker in his hand, raising him up. The man's feet dangled, his laughter cutting off with a gasp.

"What did you do to him?" Clark demanded, tuning out Bruce's grunts, " _Answer me!_ "

"N-nothing," Joker choked out, still trying to giggle around Clark's hand. Powdered makeup smeared his fingers, thick with grease. "He's, uh, doing this a-all, uh,  _himself-_ "

"Dad…" a familiar voice gasped, breaking his concentration. He turned, horror flooding through him. Bruce was picking the stranger up, hands wrapped around his neck. "... _please_ …"

_Dick--_

The second of shock was enough. Bruce grabbed the younger man's face and  _twisted,_ an audible  _crack_ sounding across the street.

Dick dropped to the ground, limp.

Clark dove for the other man, releasing the Joker. He landed at Dick's feet, horror numbing his very being.

_No no no no no no--_

Bruce stood over his son's body, wavering slightly. His eyes were blank under the cowl.

Diana landed next to him, taking charge when he couldn't. She felt along Dick's neck, tears welling in her eyes. With a shaky breath, she wiped blood from his face, her expression grave. She settled on her heels, shaking her head.

Clark could hear a weak heartbeat in the younger man's chest, slowing even as he strained to catch it.

"I…" Bruce said, still dazed. His pupils were dilated, an unfamiliar darkness in his gaze. "He--"

He tore off the cowl suddenly, scrubbing at his face. Clark watched as he stared at Dick's body, horror slowly overtaking his features.

"...Dick?"

Clark looked away, biting his lip as tears burned in his eyes.

The expression on Bruce's face--the pure  _confusion._ As his brain put the pieces together, realizing whose blood was on his hands--

_Jesus Christ._

He bowed his head, unable to bear his friend's misery. Diana was leaning over Dick, murmuring against his forehead, her hands braced against his neck.

Joker stumbled over to Bruce, the camera back in hand. He giggled once at the sight of Dick, sprawled across the ground.

" _Well,_ " he said loudly, "isn't this a  _show_!"

* * *

Bruce fell to his knees at Dick's side, clenching his eyes shut as Joe Chill's face was superimposed on his son's, shifting back and forth. His hands were numb, trembling slightly as he reached out to touch the younger man.

_No…_

He could hear Diana and Clark somewhere above him, talking softly. Dick's eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.

 _It wasn't him,_ his mind was screaming, over and over again in the background,  _it wasn't him, it was Dick, it was Dick--_

He brushed away the blood on his son's face, tears falling down his cheeks. There was a half-stitched gash across the younger man's chest, pumping blood sluggishly.

He pressed at it automatically, searching for the source of the bleeding. His heart dropped as he felt wires under his fingers.

"--as soon as his ticker stops beating," Joker's voice sneered, to his left, "Gotham's, uh,  _bye bye._ Your boy here made sure of tha--"

Clark's fist snapped out, a rare display of violence. Joker flew backwards, crumpling against a chunk of rubble. Diana put a hand to her mouth, stepping backwards.

 _They won't look at you,_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind,  _they won't even try._

"Alfred," Bruce tapped his comm, fighting the bile rising in his throat " _Alfred._ "

"I--I'm here," the butler's voice was choked. Tim was silent on the line. "You--"

Bruce brushed Dick's hair absently, hands shaking. His chest wasn't rising anymore. He was wearing the dress shirt Bruce had given him a few months ago--a deep blue that brought out his eyes.

 _His date,_ he thought distantly,  _he was going out--_

Someone grabbed his hands, stilling them. He looked up, just in time to see Clark look away.

"He's gone," the Kryptonian growled, "Bruce, he's gone."

Something beeped, interrupting the silence. Joker giggled, still sprawled under the rubble. Bruce glanced down at Dick's chest, dawning realization racing through him.

"He was a trigger," he muttered, grabbing at Clark's sleeve, "He was a--"

" _Incoming projectile on Gotham,"_ Alfred said in his ear, his voice trembling. " _Estimated impact, ten seconds--"_

" _Alfred_!"

Tim said something, low and panicked. He heard rustling over the line, mind racing as he struggled to find a solution, an option,  _anything_ \--

He turned to find Clark, kneeling next to Dick. His eyes were half-focused, most likely zeroed in on Gotham.

"Nuclear." he said quietly, head dipping. "I--I can't."

" _Five seconds,"_ Alfred said in his ear, " _Bruce, you must know, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't, you understand?"_

Clark was at his shoulder, tugging him backwards. When had he started moving?

"Bruce, you can't--"

Tim's voice, shaking, struggling to remain calm: " _Two seconds_."

He struggled against Clark's hold, roaring.

" _Nooooooooo!"_

The line went dead.

In the distance, Gotham lit up in fire, a shock wave bursting from the city. Clark threw them both down, shielding him from the blast as the ground shook.

When he looked up again, Metropolis was silent. Dust rained down, painting the sky grey.

"Gotham," he said, struggling to his feet. He tapped at his comm, getting nothing but static. "They were--"

Clark was coughing in the rubble, a hand to his throat. He looked up briefly at the ruined skyline, eyes brimming with tears.

"It's gone," he said, choked, "It's gone, Bruce."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and subscriptions! A super thanks to Musicalgirl4474 for looking this over again, and for plotting with me!

_**Before:** _

_The line went dead._

_In the distance, Gotham lit up in fire, a shock wave bursting from the city. Clark threw them both down, shielding him from the blast as the ground shook._

_When he looked up again, Metropolis was silent. Dust rained down, painting the sky grey._

_"Gotham," he said, struggling to his feet. He tapped at his comm, getting nothing but static. "They were-"_

_Clark was coughing in the rubble, a hand to his throat. He looked up briefly at the ruined skyline, eyes brimming with tears._

_"It's gone," he said, choked, "It's gone, Bruce."_

* * *

_**Now** _

The world seemed to slow around him. Bruce watched as the dust settled in Metropolis, its twin city a cloud of flame in the distance. Gotham had been levelled in less than a second; there had been no time, no chance to react. Everything inside had been turned to ash.

_Alfred,_ Bruce thought, feeling bile rise in his throat.  _Tim-Gordon-_

A hand grabbed his shoulder, squeezing. He threw off Clark's grip, ducking underneath his arm. They faced off over the rubble, breathing heavily.

"Bruce," Clark said, eyes wide. He put his hands out. "Bruce, you need to calm down-"

"Calm down?" Bruce couldn't muster a laugh, throat burning. "Do you-do you understand what just happened?"

The Kryptonian went silent. Bruce shook his head, turning away from his friend. He fell to his knees in front of Dick, the ground jarring his knees. Grief surged through him, the sensation achingly familiar by now.

He pulled his son's body into his arms, letting out a breath. It was almost a sob.

Clark flinched. At his right, Diana had her head bowed, face twisted in misery. The Joker was bound in her lasso at her feet, giggling madly around the impromptu gag.

_I'm so sorry,_ Bruce thought, closing Dick's eyes with his fingers. He tugged the torn dress shirt closed, covering the awful gash.  _I'm so sorry._

He gritted his teeth as Dick's face flickered into Chill's again, closing his eyes. The remnants of the fear toxin were still floating in his blood, but the symptoms had cleared enough. Enough for him to realize what he'd-what he'd-

He let out a choked sob, bowing over Dick's chest. Static buzzed in his ear as Gotham burned in the distance.

_They're gone. They're all gone._

* * *

"We need to get him out of here," Diana said, voice low. She grasped his arm. " _Now_."

"Give him a moment," Clark hissed in disbelief. "Can't you see he's-"

"Not Bruce," Diana pointed at the Joker, eyes narrowed. " _Him_."

Clark shook his head slowly, unwilling to consider what she was implying. He stepped backwards, putting a hand up in protest. "He wouldn't-"

"You have no idea what he would do," Diana said fiercely, glancing back at Bruce. She stepped closer to the Joker. "He just lost his entire family.  _Everything_."

"I can't just take him," Clark said, glancing between Bruce and the Joker, mind racing. "He would-"

"Take him to the Fortress," Diana interrupted. "Lock it. Don't let anyone in, do you understand?"

Clark shook his head. "You're overreacting-"

"Kal,  _now_!"

He grabbed the Joker, undoing Diana's lasso with a flick of his wrist. They exchanged one last look, something unsaid passed between them. Diana's fists were clenched at her sides, legs spread into her battle stance.

"Watch him," he said to the Amazon. "If anything happens-"

"It won't," Diana said. Her eyes were on the Joker. She seemed a second away from pouncing on the man herself. "Now  _leave_."

_I'm so sorry, Bruce,_ he thought, lifting off from the ground.  _I'm so sorry._

* * *

Gotham slowly faded into view as they pulled onto the interstate. In the distance, the night sky was split by a row of skyscrapers. The highway was empty at this hour, blurring around them.

"We're going far too fast," Damian said, face pinched. He leaned back in the passenger seat, feet kicked up on the dashboard. "You're going to hit something."

Jason tapped the steering wheel, glancing at the speedometer. "We're going  _sixty-five_."

"The speed limit is clearly forty miles an hour!"

"Yeah, so you can go sixty, that's what that means."

"That's definitely  _not_ what that means-"

A burst of static interrupted the argument, blaring from the radio. Jason frowned, shifting to the right lane. Damian was tapping at his comm, a similar expression on his face.

" _-projectile,"_ a familiar voice said, garbled by static, " _-estimated impact, ten seconds-"_

Jason slapped the dashboard.

"What the  _hell-_ "

The night sky brightened suddenly, blinding them. Jason slammed on the brakes, tires squealing as they pulled to the side of the road. A deep shuddering reached them, the ground trembling beneath the car.

The light faded slowly, a red haze lingering in the west. The skyscrapers had disappeared; so had the rest of the streetlights.

Damian's face was pale as he looked up, eyes wide. He stared at the skyline.

"What was that," he said, voice shaky. " _Todd_?"

The radio was still blaring static. Jason gripped the steering wheel, squeezing until his knuckles ached. He knew that voice-and Damian did too.

In the distance, he could see fire.

"Gotham," he said, "That was Gotham."

* * *

"-return to the Watchtower," she said into her comm. "I'll message you when I know anything else."

" _Thanks,_ " Arthur replied, signing off. She turned off the comm.

Diana remained a respectful distance from Dick's body, allowing Bruce time alone with his son. Horror was still reverberating through her mind, paired with an inexplicable sense of shock.

The Joker had never done something so horrible before, had never taken so many innocent lives at once. It was unprecedented, and yet-it was happening. Before her very eyes.

Bruce was still kneeling over Dick's body, silent. His face was bare, streaked with tears and dust. She turned away as his eyes met hers, unable to bear his gaze.

_Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children,_ she thought, kicking at a piece of rubble near her foot.  _Not ever._

She paused as the rock bounced off a piece of rebar, spotting something in the ash. She picked up the small camera, hands trembling. Bruce's face was paused on the screen, his hands around Dick's throat.

_Joker's camera,_ she thought with disgust, hitting the power button.  _I should crumble this to dust._

Just as she was about to close her first around the piece of metal, a hand grabbed her wrist. She looked down to see Bruce, his face carefully composed.

"Don't," he said softly, almost dream-like. "Don't do that."

Her hand released the camera, almost reluctantly. The billionaire took it, sliding it into a compartment on his belt. Behind him, Dick's body was carefully positioned, arms folded across his chest. He could have been sleeping.

"Bruce," she said painfully, "You shouldn't-"

"I need you to watch his body," the billionaire interrupted. "I can't-there's...there's nowhere to bury him. I need you to watch him."

"Of course." she said, throat burning. "Of course, Bruce."

His face was a mask, so calm, it was eerie. For a half-second, it seemed to fracture, the facade crumbing.

"...thank you."

He released her wrist, stepping backwards. His face was still uncovered, but he might as well have been wearing the cowl.

"It wasn't your fault," she said, before he could leave. "Bruce, you have to know-"

He flinched ever so slightly, turning away from her. In the reflection of his eyes, Gotham burned.

"I know exactly what happened," he said simply, tapping at his wrist. In the distance, the batplane fired up, the hatch sliding upwards. "I'll be back by sunrise."

Diana watched as the plane took off, engines roaring. In the distance, civilians were beginning to wander back in. She returned to Dick's body before they could spot her, kneeling next to the younger man.

_I'm sorry, child,_ she thought, stroking his hair. She could still see Robin in the boy, even though it had been years. She turned away, unwilling to let her tears fall on his body.

_I'm so sorry._

* * *

"Holy  _shit_ ," Hal Jordan blurted out, "Are you  _kidding_ me?"

Flash looked nauseous as Arthur finished speaking. Next to him, Victor was silent, head bowed in thought.

"That's all I got out of Superman," the Atlantean said, his face grave. He scratched at his beard, his other hand white-knuckled around his trident. "It was a trap all along. The Penguin and Joker were working together. We didn't realize until it was too late."

Flash made a disgusted noise, turning away. Hal Jordan was uncharacteristically silent, staring at the wall.

"Jesus  _Christ_ ," he said, horrified. "His own kid, his city- _fuck_!"

"Language," Victor said, but it was half-hearted.

"Where is he now?" Barry asked, turning to Arthur. "The Joker, I mean."

"Fortress," the other man replied, "Superman's taking him there until everything...settles."

"Where's Batman?" Jordan asked, voicing what everyone was thinking. "Huh?"

"No one knows," Arthur said, shifting slightly. There was a slight tremor in his voice. "He turned off his locator an hour ago."

"He's grieving," Barry said, hesitant. "I'm sure he'd want to be alone."

"Right," Hal muttered. He kicked at the table, lips twitching. "That's  _exactly_ what's happening."

"You have a problem, Jordan?" Victor asked, standing. "Something you want to say?"

"No," Hal said, irritated. "I don't have a problem.  _You_ do."

"Sit down," Arthur growled at them, thumping his trident on the floor. "Before I lay you both out."

"You're stupid if you can't see where this is going," Jordan told Victor, ignoring the Atlantean. "He's going to destroy everything. I'm not waiting around for that to happen."

"You're overreacting," Barry said, but his eyes were wide. "Bruce would never-"

"How well do you even know him?" Jordan said, turning to his friend. "Huh? You wanna know what I know about him?"

" _Jordan_ -"

Barry flinched. "I don't think-"

"He's the most methodical, logical, terrifying bastard I've ever met," Hal said, his ring lighting up. He pointed at Barry. "And if you get between him and the Joker, you're toast.  _Kaput._ "

"He'll calm down," Barry said, "Not right away, but eventually. Supes just has to keep him in the Fortress long enough-"

"Are you  _kidding_ me?" Jordan snorted, waving a hand. "There is no  _long enough._ You're an idiot if you think B didn't have access codes to the Fortress the second he knew it existed."

Victor opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. He frowned, squinting at something on his screens.

Arthur slammed his trident down, a loud crack echoing through the conference room.

"That's enough," he said, voice low. "I don't want to hear another word of this conversation. Understood?"

Jordan pressed his lips together, face tight. Barry was watching him in confusion, hands clenched at his sides.

" _Understood?"_

"Hal, don't  _leave-_ "

The Lantern ignored him, walking towards the exit. He punched at the keypad, turning back as the doors hissed open.

"You're making a mistake," he said. "A  _big_ mistake."

The room went silent as the doors slid shut. Barry glanced at Arthur, then to Victor.

"What the hell is going on?"

Victor shrugged, exchanging a glance with Arthur.

"I have no idea."

* * *

Clark tapped at the Fortress computer, switching screens. He pulled the Joker's room into view. Something was nagging at his mind, not letting him rest.

The man was exactly where he'd left him, bound in one of the chambers. A sentry guarded the doors, hovering above the crystalline floor. There were sixteen different cameras on him, and a myriad of different sensors. All of them negative for movement.

He leaned back in the chair, frowning. His heart rate was still up, the fight far from forgotten. The flight-and leaving Bruce-had done nothing but increase his anxiety.

He shouldn't be here. Not when his friend needed him. Not when the whole team needed someone…

Clark stood, walking towards the west hall briskly. The Joker would have to explain this one at length, if he could get a half-coherent answer out of the man.

With a swipe of his hand, the chamber doors opened. The sentry stood to the side, scanning him quietly. He entered the small room, watching its occupant closely.

The Joker smiled up at him with yellowed teeth, slouched against the far wall. He seemed pleased by his presence, scooting so he was sitting up.

" _Superman_!" he crowed, "You've returned!"

Clark glared at him, unwilling to play games. There was still blood on the other man's shirt. In the chill of the Fortress, it was still bright red.

_Dick's blood,_ he thought, horrified.

" _Why,_ Joker?"

The other man swallowed, his smile wavering. "Why, uh,  _what_?"

"The  _missile._ The fear toxin," Clark's voice rose, his chest heaving. He took a step forward, feeling his eyes burn. " _Why_?"

The Joker watched him, a smirk twisting his lips. He was breathing quickly, watching Clark with renewed interest.

"Why," he repeated, blowing out the  _h,_ "Because it was  _easy_."

Clark slammed a hand down, cracking the floor. The Joker let out a startled laugh, shimmying backwards.

"It was too hard before," he babbled, " _He_ was making it too hard. I couldn't touch him. Couldn't get anything past him anymore. So I thought, why not make things a little, uh, easier? Why not level the p-playing field a  _little_ -"

Clark clenched his eyes shut, willing them to stop burning. "You killed  _millions_ of people."

"Lot harder to save them all at once," the Joker pointed out, pouting. "Radiation's a  _bitch_."

He pushed down the urge to slam his fist into the man's face, breathing raggedly. It wouldn't solve anything, he reminded himself. But  _Christ-_ it would feel good.

_Don't think like that,_ he cautioned himself.  _You can't. Not right now…_

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the wail of an alarm.

" _Proximity alert,"_ the ship said over the speakers, " _Security breach_."

He turned to the sentry.

"Lock all entrances.  _Now._ "

The doors to the cell slid shut, sealing them in. He turned back to the Joker, his mind racing.

"It's h-him," the man giggled, staring at the door. "Isn't it?"

An explosion rocked the ship, sending Clark to the floor. He staggered to his feet, a familiar heartbeat thudding in his ears.

_Bruce…_

"Lockdown mode," he told the sentry. " _Now_!"

The sentry didn't move. A second later, it powered down, settling on the floor with a soft  _click._

The chamber door slid open slowly, hissing.

Bruce stepped into the room. He was wearing the suit, his cowl still missing. At his side was a small case.

_Diana was right,_ he thought, panic racing through him.  _He wouldn't let this go. He couldn't._

"Bruce," he said, stepping in front of the Joker. He put his hands out. "Don't do this."

The billionaire's face was a mask. Icy blue eyes met his, carefully blank.

"Move."

"You don't need to do this," Clark said quickly, stepping forward. "Please, Bruce. We don't have to fight."

The other man let out something almost like a laugh. His hand flexed at his side, reaching into the case.

"Funny." he said.

"What?"

Bruce tilted his head.

"You thought this would be a fight."

" _Bruce-_ "

Something flew at his head, locking around his neck before he could react. He choked as a familiar weakness spread through him, sending him to his knees.

"You should be more careful with your Kryptonite," Bruce said, stepping around him. "It's not as well-hidden as you think."

Clark pulled at the collar, unable to break the metal. He groaned as the mineral entered his bloodstream, head spinning. He fell to the floor, too weak to move.

Bruce untied the Joker slowly, undoing his knots with deft hands. The other man chuckled as he staggered to his feet, winking at Clark.

"Face to face at  _last_ ," the Joker said loudly, leaning toward the billionaire. He tapped his cheeks. "Did you like my present?"

There was a pause. Bruce's heartbeat was steady-too steady. Clark watched in horror, unable to move from the floor.

In a half-second, he had the Joker stranglehold, his elbow pressed to the man's throat. The billionaire was emotionless. There was a terrifying blankness in his eyes-one he'd only seen once before, a few hours ago.

Clark looked away as Joker's gagging filled the room, his face purpling under the horrible makeup.

With a snap of his hands, Bruce broke the man's neck, effortless. The Joker fell to the floor, folding like a ragdoll.

"I did," the billionaire said, quiet. "Thank you."

Clark groaned against the floor, willing every cell in his body to  _move,_ to do  _something._ "B-bruce-"

The other man ignored him, turning towards the door. He was gone before Clark could say anything else, blending into the shadows.

With monumental effort, he raised a hand to his ear, tapping at his comm.

" _Kal?"_

" _Diana,"_ he gasped. "He killed him. He-he killed the Joker."

" _Who?_ "

Clark closed his eyes.

"Bruce," he said quietly, "It was Bruce."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's more plotty, but I swear it's going somewhere! Thanks again to everyone reading! I hope you enjoy.

_**Before** _

_"Kal?"_

_"Diana," he gasped. "He killed him. He--he killed the Joker."_

_"Who?"_

_Clark closed his eyes._

_"Bruce," he said quietly, "It was Bruce."_

* * *

_**Now** _

"What do we  _do_?"

Jason ignored his brother, slamming a hand against the dashboard. Static continued to fill the car, buzzing in his ears. He changed frequencies aimlessly, waiting to hear something--a word, a beep-- _anything_.

" _Todd_!"

"Quiet," Jason growled, glancing at Damian. "Try your comms. See if you can raise anyone."

In the distance, there was no mistaking the location of the fire. The flames had risen over the treeline, licking at the sky. Miles ahead of them, the interstate spilled into darkness, lit only by the false dawn of the fire.

_It's all gone..._

Jason reached for the ham radio, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his head. He spun through the frequencies as Damian tapped his comm, growing more and more frustrated.

After a moment, the engine cut out completely, throwing the car into darkness.

"Todd," Damian said quietly. He sounded scared now--or as close as he could get to it, at least. "They're not picking up."

"Nuclear." Jason said, unable to tear his gaze away from the flames. "It knocked out the power grid, this far out. It has to be nuclear."

" _Nuclear_." Damian spat, covering his uncertainty with a scowl. "Father said that--"

He cut off with a half-flinch, turning towards the window. Jason froze.

_Dick,_ he thought,  _Dick, Alfred, Tim. Babs, Gordon--_

"There must be survivors," Damian said finally, voice tight. His hands were fists in his lap, clenching and unclenching. "We have to rescue them."

"Are you kidding? We're lucky the fallout hasn't gotten to us yet." Jason shook his head, jaw clenching. "We can't go back there. We can't go anywhere near--" He cut off, swallowing. "Near--"

"...Gotham," Damian finished, eyes wide. He looked at Jason, deathly pale in the low light. "Alfred was--"

"Don't you fucking say that," Jason growled, cutting him off. His chest ached suddenly, and he clamped down  _hard_ on the sensation, before it could turn into something worse. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Father was in Metropolis." Damian's face was twisted. He glanced at the window. "I can't contact him. His comm must be off."

Something crashed into the hood of the car, bouncing it on the shocks. They both flinched as the car rocked backwards, Jason's hands going to his guns without thinking.

A green light shone into the cabin, sliding across their faces.

"Hiya, boys," Hal Jordan said, crouching down until he at eye-level. There was a bitter smirk on his lips. "Heard you needed a ride?"

* * *

" _You can't get it off?"_

Clark groaned, sliding against the Fortress floor. His cheek was pressed to the alien stone, grinding into the surface. He could feel every cell in his arms and legs, buzzing under his skin. The sickening sensation of the collar had rendered them useless.

"Diana, I can barely  _move_ ," he gasped into the comm, breathless. "It's--the collar he put on me. It's Kryptonite. Lots of it. I don't know where he even  _got_ it--"

" _Don't worry about that,_ " the Amazon ordered. " _I'm sending Arthur to the Fortress. We need to regroup."_

"Where?"

" _The Watchtower._ " Diana said. " _Did Bruce say where he was going?"_

"He didn't say a-anything," Clark groaned, curling into a ball as his muscles began to cramp. Fire raced through his veins, forcing his eyes shut. "I-- _argh-_ -I have no idea where he's g-going-"

" _He turned his tracker off,"_ Diana said. " _He's planning something. We need to be prepared."_

There was a short beep-the sound of the door alarms resetting themselves. The sentry powered back to life, rising from the cracked floor.

Arthur stepped into the chamber, towering above Clark. He eyed the Joker's body with surprise. His hand clenched around his trident, knuckles turning white.

"Come on, big blue," he said, putting Clark's arm over his shoulders. He levered them up, grunting. "We gotta go."

" _Get back to the Watchtower,_ " Diana said in his ear, " _We'll take it from there."_

Clark grit his teeth against the pain, leaning heavily on Arthur. They limped towards the zeta chamber, making slow progress. Every step was agony.

In the distance, he could hear screaming, the not-quite thud of Bruce's heartbeat overlaid it all.

_What the hell is happening?_

* * *

"-- _reports of a detonation in Gotham have stymied officials, with some alleging that nuclear weapons were the cause of today's explosion--"_

" _Thanks, Katie. Now back to Jane, who's outside of the White House briefing hall. Any update on Gotham and the involvement of possible nuclear weapons, Jane? What has the president said?"_

Lex Luthor muted the television, leaning back in his chair. The flat screen continued to display Gotham in HD, every piece of rubble perfectly focused on the plasma. The shells of the buildings had long since burned away; nothing remained but ash, and scattered fires at the city limits.

It was almost comical how close apocalyptic Hollywood movies had gotten to the truth. It really did look like a hellscape.

Strange how their sister city had been first. Gotham had been a breeding pit of insanity and destruction, but the poetic justice of it falling to its own creations? It was almost too much. Metropolis would have no choice but to move on, a shining jewel across the bay from ash and dust.

_That is, after the fallout settles,_ he thought with a smirk, reaching for the glass of bourbon he'd had Mercy pour. He took a sip, glancing towards the room's windows.  _No use trying now._

The television switched off, throwing the room into darkness. Luthor frowned. The remote was still at his elbow, untouched.

"Mercy?"

"She's asleep."

Luthor stood, spinning towards the voice. In the doorway was Batman, impassive as ever. He leaned against the doorjamb, a strange sort of humor in the motion. In his hand was a small taser.

"You mean unconscious," Luthor rebutted, straightening his suit. "I thought you'd have gone down with your city."

"Life is full of disappointments."

Luthor raised his eyebrows, surprised at the man's tone. "It really is, isn't it?"

They fell into an uneasy silence. Luthor narrowed his eyes, unwilling to fill it. His partner seemed just as reluctant.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked. "I'm sure he's still kicking around. Flying dogs out of the radioactive clouds, most likely."

"Creative differences." Batman shrugged, the gesture almost imperceptible in the darkness. He stepped closer, cape trailing against the floor.

"Shame."

"I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition. From the Dark Knight  _himself_." Luthor let out a laugh, reaching for his abandoned glass. He took another sip of the liquor, swallowing before he spoke. "Give me one reason why I should even be  _talking_ to you."

There was a pause. Batman's hands went to the cowl, undoing a hidden latch. Luthor leaned forward as the mask dropped away, unable to believe his eyes. A familiar face stared back at him. He choked on his rebuttal, going silent.

"Here's one." Bruce Wayne said. He tilted his head. "Now. Let's talk."

* * *

"This is ridiculous."

"Hey," Hal Jordan said, maneuvering them around another satellite. His face was pinched--Damian's fault, most likely. "You like hanging out in fallout? Be my guest."

Jason stared at the earth beneath their feet, tinted green by the bubble surrounding them. Jordan was a half-foot outside the construction, his ring aimed at their heads.

"I appreciate the assistance," Damian continued, sounding so much like  _Bruce_ that Jason had to look away. "But this is far more tedious than zeta travel--"

"Yeah, well all the zeta tubes in Gotham are fried," Hal interrupted. He grinned at Damian through the bubble. "Want me to drop you off so you can try one?"

"Quit egging him on." Jason muttered, glaring at the lantern. Their eyes met through the construction. "He's the only thing between you and space. I wouldn't piss him off."

" _Todd--_ "

The Watchtower loomed over their heads. Jason watched as they entered its orbit, the silence of space drowning out whatever Damian was saying.

He'd forgotten how large it was in person--the interlocking hallways and wings and parts all moving together, powering themselves through space. It was a feat of engineering-Bruce's--and one that would go unclaimed, probably forever.

_Jordan seems jumpy,_ he thought as they drifted towards the docking bay.  _Something happened. Something they're not telling us about._

The Lantern set them down in the center of the bay, still powering the construct. The doors hissed open, pressurizing the small room. The green bubble disappeared.

"Make sure to leave five stars," Jordan quipped, heading towards the main door. There was a strange sort of anxiety to his movements--like he was in a hurry. "Later, batkids."

Jason turned to Damian, who was staring at the Watchtower in awe. They stood in the empty docking bay, silent.

"We should find Father."

He nodded at the door, uncertainty churning in his stomach.

"After you."

* * *

"Just…. _there_!"

Clark let out a groan as the collar fell away, his vision flickering. The metal pieces scattered across the floor, green pieces of Kryptonite glittering within the shards. He gasped as he felt his strength begin to return, clenching his fists.

"There we go," Barry said, putting the pliers down. He wiped a hand across his brow. "Jeez. Bats really didn't make that easy to break, did he?"

_He didn't exactly make it difficult, either._ Clark thought, closing his eyes. He leaned back in the chair, exhausted. "Thanks, Barry."

"No problem. It's what super speed is for." The other man winked, but the expression was strained. "What do you want me to do with the leftover pieces?"

_Throw them into space._

"Could you give them to Victor?" Clark asked, opening his eyes. Barry was staring at him, looking for reassurance. "He has access to the vault."

"Course. I'll get these out of your hair." In a blink, the speedster had the shards in hand. He saluted Clark, dashing off in a blur.

The comm beeped in his ear, keeping him from passing out in the chair. He tapped it with a weak hand, annoyed when it wouldn't stop trembling. "Diana?"

" _I'm at docking bay three."_ she paused, hesitating. " _I have Richard's remains. I need you to…"_

"Right," Clark said awkwardly. "I'll--uh. I'll meet you there."

" _Jason and Damian are onboard."_

He hissed, pushing out of the chair with some effort. "Nobody told them."

" _Not yet_."

_Jesus Christ._ Clark shook his head, trying to clear it. "Someone has to, Diana."

" _I'd rather they didn't learn this way,_ " Diana said. The implication took a moment to sink in. " _Keep them out of the west wing. I'll find you when I'm...finished_."

Clark disconnected the link, his stomach turning. He breathed in, feeling the pain dissipate from his limbs, achingly slow.

_There's no way this is going well._

* * *

Damian and Jason's locators blinked at him from the screen. He refreshed the GPS, unsurprised as the two green dots remained fixed in outer space. Diana's star was a few kilometers away from the Watchtower, heading steadily towards one of the docking bays.

Clark's designator was in the eastern wing, blinking slowly from one of the storage rooms. The Kryptonite collar had been deactivated a few minutes prior. Removing it had taken Clark far longer than he'd predicted.

Across the room, a glass clattered in the sink. Bruce looked up to see Luthor, refilling a fresh snifter with something obnoxiously expensive.

"Problem?" the CEO asked casually. He tilted his head, taking a sip of the liquid.

Bruce stood, closing the laptop. He ignored the other man, heading towards the door.

"I'll be back in a few hours."

Luthor snorted.

"I won't wait up, then."

* * *

Jason shifted in his chair, unable to lift his gaze from the floor. Next to him, Damian was staring at the wall, mouth agape. Clark's voice continued, a dull droning sound he couldn't tune out, no matter how hard he tried.

"There was a struggle with the Joker." the Kryptonian finished, but Jason already knew where this was going. "Dick didn't make it. I--"

_Dick's dead,_ the voice in his mind whispered, almost triumphant.  _You knew it, you knew it, you knew it--_

"How?" Damian asked, turning horrified eyes on the older man. "How did it happen? How could you let it happen?"

Clark flinched, accepting the accusation silently. His fists clenched at his sides, relaxing a second later. "I'm sorry. I was too late to stop it."

" _You let him die_!"

Jason put a hand out, catching Damian before he could launch himself at the Kryptonian. He shoved him back into his chair, numb.

"You said his heart was the trigger," he said quietly, when Damian had settled down. "That's why Gotham blew up. Dick's heart stopped."

"It was." Clark bowed his head, momentarily lost in thought. "There was nothing anyone could have done. The Joker outsmarted us all."

"Where is he?"

Clark frowned. "What?"

"Where is the Joker?"

The door to the conference room opened, squeaking on its hinges. Diana entered the room, cutting off Clark's reply.

"Dead," she said, painfully simple. "Your father killed him an hour and a half ago."

_Dead._ Jason thought, the word thundering through his mind.  _Dead. So that's what he's been up to._

"You're not pleased," Damian observed, looking at Diana. "Are you?"

"Bruce isn't--" Clark cut himself off, looking away. There was something vulnerable in his eyes, painfully bare. "He isn't himself right now. This isn't  _him_."

"You don't know where he is," Jason guessed.

"No." Diana replied. She met his gaze, settling into her stance. Her hand drifted towards her sword, sheathed at her hip. "We don't."

There was a pause as they squared off. Damian settled at his elbow, glaring at the Amazon. A current of tension ran through the room.

"We want you to reach out to him," Diana said finally, her hand not leaving her sheath. "Convince him to stop. If you tell him we're not looking to use any sort of force--"

Jason burst out into laughter, cutting her off. The Amazon stared at him, shocked. Clark stood, unnerved by the interruption.

"If he already killed the Joker, it's too late." Jason shook his head, still laughing. "You have no fucking idea.  _None._ "

Damian snorted. He had a batarang in one hand, foot propped against the chair. For all of his relaxed posturing, Jason knew he was ready to move in a millisecond.

"You tried to stop him, didn't you?" He said to Clark. "From killing him."

The Kryptonian turned to him, shoulders raised. "I did."

"Then you're next." Damian smiled, looking so much like  _Bruce,_ it was almost painful. "All of you are."

Diana's face went blank. She tapped her comm, listening intently.

"You're wrong," she said to Damian, switching off her earpiece. She turned to Clark. "Watch them. I'll be back soon."

"Diana--"

The Amazon ignored him, slamming through the door. It swung on its hinges, hitting the wall as she disappeared into the hallway.

"It's not us you should be watching," Jason said to Clark, humorless. "Just saying."

The Kryptonian was watching the doorway, face drawn.

"I know."

* * *

She touched down on the outskirts of the lake, recognizing the distress signal's location immediately.

Bruce's lakehouse had been on the outskirts of Gotham, untouched by the blast. Years after the League's founding, its glass walls were still intact. The forest around it was silent, outlined in the not-quite light of dawn.

There was a figure on the dock, kneeling by the water. Diana stepped out onto the wood, making her way to the edge. She thumbed at her lasso, anxiety coursing through her.

"Diana," Bruce murmured, when she was a few feet away. "You came."

She joined him, throwing her legs over the edge. The water was eerily calm--almost mirror-like. "Bruce…"

"I know what you're going to say," the billionaire said, still looking at the water. His lips twisted painfully, almost begrudging. "What I did. It was wrong."

His eyes finally met hers, red-rimmed. His hair was pushed back, matted with sweat. Dust still caked his face, emphasizing the bruises under his eyes.

_Hera…_

"I don't know what's happening to me, Diana," he admitted. "I get so--so  _angry,_ and then I can't stop. It's like there's still fear toxin inside me, except I  _know_ there can't be. And it won't  _stop_."

His fists clenched around the dock's edge, wood creaking under his grip. There was so much pain in his voice--so much hurt and confusion. Diana felt her heart ache, unable to offer any sort of solace to the man next to her.

"Part of me thinks I should just kill myself," Bruce said, blase. He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly. "Just get it over with, you know?"

"Bruce…"

"Don't," he said abruptly. "Don't make this about sympathy. I don't deserve it. You know I don't."

Diana looked away, throat burning. She could still picture Dick's face--and knew, deep down, that it was all Bruce could see, too.

"You can't do this to yourself," she said, "Not again. Not like Jason. You can't close yourself off again."

Bruce shook his head. "I can't."

"Kal will forgive you," she said, glancing up at the sky. "We all will. You can come back. We can start over--"

She frowned, fingers sliding against the material of her suit, searching for something that wasn't there. A line of fire wrapped around her wrist, dragging her down suddenly.

She let out a cry as she was forced down onto the dock, fire burning at her wrists. The familiar gold of her lasso wrapped around her waist, looped and knotted before she could move.

"You were always the wild card, Diana," Bruce's voice was calm at her ear, no sign of distress in his tone. He stood, boots scraping against the wood, inches from her face. "You only had one known weakness. You had to let your guard down. I didn't think you'd actually do it, to be honest…"

"You  _bastard,_ " she growled, pulling against the knots at her wrists. She let out a groan, furious as they didn't give. "I  _believed_ you--"

"They always said Clark was too soft," Bruce moved to stand in front of her, gazing down. "I always thought they were wrong. You were the sentimental one--the one always trying to be human." He smirked, a bitter twist of his lips. "It's a weakness, Diana. I thought you would have figured it out by now."

He kicked at her feet, sending her sliding across the wood planks. She balanced precariously on the edge of the dock, millimeters away from falling into the water.

"You'll drown, but you won't die." Bruce put a heel to her ribs, pausing. His face was carefully blank. "I don't know if that's much of a consolation."

With a kick, she fell over the dock's edge. Icy water rushed into her nose and mouth. She strained against the lasso, powerless to move as she drifted downwards.

Ice flooded throat as she screamed, choking on the lakewater. Above her, a pair of headlights flashed over the lake.

_Kal…_

There was a searing pain in her chest, and then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking to batwayneman, mulling over whether I should give you guys a warning about this chapter beforehand, and then I died laughing because I'd just made the worst pun in my life. You'll see why in a little bit.

_**Before** _

_"You'll drown, but you won't die." Bruce put a heel to her ribs, pausing. His face was carefully blank. "I don't know if that's much of a consolation."_

_With a kick, she fell over the dock's edge. Icy water rushed into her nose and mouth. She strained against the lasso, powerless to move as she drifted downwards._

_Ice flooded throat as she screamed, choking on the lakewater. Above her, a pair of headlights flashed over the lake._

Kal…

_There was a searing pain in her chest, and then everything went black._

* * *

_**Now** _

Cyborg frowned, a short buzzing noise echoing in his ear. The monitor womb was silent around him, the displays from his hands whirring quietly.

There was still no sign of Batman--no sightings, camera feeds,  _nothing._ He must have installed some sort of cloaking technology on the plane. Something government level, or higher.

Who was he kidding? Batman had probably written the  _book_ on cloaking schematics. Victor snorted to himself, opening another drone feed into Gotham.

The ruined landscape had changed little in the intervening hours. The smoke had turned to an ashy gray, intermingled with fallout, still invisible to the human eye. The radiation cloud veered north, avoiding Metropolis for now. There had been evacuations, but considering the detonation size of the missile…

_We were lucky,_ Victor thought, ordering the drone silently to ascend.  _He wanted it to just be Gotham._

There was a dull reminder of humanity in skimming the local news feeds. Sometimes he'd forgotten how it'd felt before, watching people cry and scream and try to rationalize tragedy across a television screen.

Now, their shouting echoed in ears that did not hear, but he heard them all the same.

" _\--my father was on the highway--"_

" _\--and there was nothing left--"_

" _\--burns across 95% of her body--"_

" _\--radiation cloud--"_

" _\--couldn't have been near that one--"_

" _\--viewers should--"_

" _I was on the phone with her--"_

" _\--and the police aren't_ helping  _us, nobody is. Please, you have to--"_

The screen between his hands flickered, the audio feed cutting out briefly. The part of him that  _wasn't_ \--something he'd almost call a sense, if he could bring himself to--recoiled, processing a foreign presence.

_Bruce,_ Victor realized, in between milliseconds.

He could feel a coordinated attack beginning on his servers. Elegant, like the man himself--and brutal. It battered across the Watchtower's feeds, speeding towards the Womb.

He directed his code at the attack. The probe died at one of the weaker firewalls, quickly dimming from his perception. The video feeds came back online, continuing uninterrupted.

_Nice try._

He flinched as a burning pain shot through him. The foreign presence seized his motor controls and froze them, pinning him in the seat. The screens went black. His firewalls crumbled, code spinning into a mess of numbers and letters, unintelligible.

A cursor appeared on the womb scream, blinking slowly. It began to type.

_The virus will keep you here until I'm done. I've disabled the rest of your software, but will leave your ambulatory functions intact. You'll regain them in half an hour._

_\--B_

Victor tried to move, only succeeding in moving the human parts of his upper arm and body. They strained from the lack of disuse, too acclimated to the motor support from the motherbox additions. He fought against it anyway, managing to rock the chair a little.

His comm was dead in his ear. Somehow, he could see Bruce's code overwriting his own, opening doors in the Watchtower's servers he hadn't even known existed. But the man had built the whole thing--he would have had years to perfect a backdoor.

_He's coming,_ he thought, his heart beginning to race as he remembered the rest of the League.  _He's coming and I can't warn them._

The code began directing the Watchtower's engines to change course, shifting them slightly out of orbit. Superman and Diana wouldn't notice for at least an hour. By then, it would be too late.

_Hal was right,_ he thought, staring at Batman's code, splintering through his own and cleaning up the pieces, like it'd never been there.  _This was always going to go wrong._

* * *

"Jordan."

Hal looked up, spotting Barry in the doorway of the kitchen. He picked up his mug, taking a sip. "What."

"I need you to come watch the batkids for a moment." Barry said, shifting nervously. "Diana left and I can't find Victor. And Supes is…"

_Missing his boyfriend,_ Hal thought, but didn't say.  _We all know what's really up._

"Yeah, sure, I can keep an eye on them for a few minutes." Hal grabbed his coffee, following his friend to the door. "Where did Diana go?"

"Down to Earth. Victor said she got a distress signal." Barry shook his head. "I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"Where's Arthur?"

"Checking in on Earth, too. He should be back soon."

They walked towards the conference room, silent for the rest of the journey. Hal couldn't shake the undercurrent of tension running through the Watchtower. It nagged at the back of his head.

Too many things were going spooky all at once. Regardless of Barry's optimism, something wasn't right.

Superman was at the front of the conference room, pacing by the head of the table. He was uncharacteristically silent, not moving to greet them as they entered. He had a tablet in one hand, constantly refreshing what looked like GPS coordinates as he paced back and forth.

Damian and Jason were slouched in the back chairs, their feet kicked up. Hal couldn't help but feel a chill staring at the Bat's kids, despite their relative unthreatening status. They were suspiciously quiet, watching the proceedings with attentive eyes.

"Thanks again, Hal." Barry patted him on the back, disappearing through the doorway.

The two vigilantes blinked, then went back to staring at the wall. Jason leaned over, murmuring something in Damian's ear that Hal would've paid good money to hear.

"What's up, batkids?" he asked, walking over casually. The Lantern leaned against the table, ignoring Clark's panicked pacing in the background. "Having fun being babysat?"

Damian leveled a glare at him that could've melted steel. Jason just rolled his eyes.

"I think I want my parents to come pick us up now," the teen snarked, getting a chuckle from Damian. Hal narrowed his eyes. "No offense, but this place blows. What do you guys do here for fun again?"

Up close, Hal could see the faint level of anxiety behind the carefully-composed masks. They were waiting, but they didn't know much more than Hal did. Were they waiting for orders?

_Possible, but why wait here?_

"Well, usually Superman waxes about his love for justice, and Batman nods along." Hal said, taking a seat next to Jason. "Unfortunately, we're kind of vamping today."

"No shit." Jason snorted. "Any news on Diana?"

"Nope," Hal said, unwilling to divulge more. "You guys heard anything from on-planet?"

"Nope." Jason said, in the same tone of voice. They locked eyes, both well-aware of the power struggle going on between them. "Sorry."

"Is everyone here asleep?"

Hal turned at the noise, annoyed. Arthur stood at the entrance to the conference room, looking irritated. "Unfortunately, no."

"I can't raise Victor on the communication channel," the Atlantean said, striding into the room. "I had to zeta myself up. It was inconvenient."

"Barry went to find him," Hal said, but the explanation felt hollow. "He's probably just defragging himself, or whatever he does in his free time. I don't judge."

Arthur ignored him, pulling up a chair. He eyed Clark's pacing, then looked away, apparently unwilling to address any of...that.

Barry sped into the room, breaking up the tension before another awkward silence could form. Hal raised an eyebrow, getting a tiny frown from the speedster in return.

_No Victor,_ Hal surmised, stomach sinking.  _Is it beginning to feel a tiny bit like Ten Little Indians here, or is that just me?_

The Watchtower's lights flickered once, the screens in the corner dimming. Clark's head whipped up as a low warning alarm began in the hallways. The Kryptonian was pale, fearful in a away Hal had never seen him before.

Arthur gripped his trident, turning towards the door. Barry stood at his elbow, hesitation clear in his stance. Hal pushed away from the table, adrenaline spiking in his chest.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked Jason, kicking at his chair. The bat glared at him, a warning in the gesture. "Huh? You have to know  _something--_ "

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Clark," Jason hissed, standing. He put a hand back, blocking Damian before the kid could do something they'd both regret. "You put yourselves in between Bruce and the Joker. You're still making yourselves a threat. You're  _fucked_."

A distant explosion rocked the room, setting off a new round of alarms. Hal steadied himself with his ring, watching the room shake around them. Clark was staring at the door, that same expression of hurt and confusion lodged on his face.

Bruce stepped into the room a moment later. He wasn't wearing the cowl. There was a streak of soot across his cheek, lending him a savage look. His eyes were a brittle blue, his face more mask-like than the damn rubber cowl ever could have been.

"I'm here for my sons," he said simply, voice echoing in the silent room. "Leave, and you won't get hurt."

"Leave?" Arthur snorted, hefting his trident. "You're the only who's going to be leaving, buddy."

Barry put a hand up, dragging his friend's arm down. "Arthur, don't."

"He's nuts! He's going to  _kill_ us!"

"You heard the man." Hal stepped around the table, holding his hand up. His ring lit up, waiting for his command. "Leave while you can."

Bruce tilted his head, examining them. Hal could practically see his monster-sized brain working, studying every detail of the room. He seemed utterly calm.  _Confident._

_We're fucked._

Arthur and Barry looked to Clark, waiting for permission. The Kryptonian was staring at Bruce, his eyes glassy.

"Fuck it." Hal strode forward, constructing a green hand a foot ahead of him. He moved toward the billionaire, expanding the construct. "If you won't do something, then I will--"

The vigilante ducked around the projection, lightning-fast. Hal blinked, spinning as he tried to follow the man. The hand grasped at air, missing Bruce's heel by a few centimeters.

"You-- _agggh!"_

A burning line wrapped around his wrist, constricting with a tug of Bruce's gloves, locked around his forearm. Hal roared as the muscle and bone split, choking on a scream as he fell to his knees.

" _Arrgggh!"_

The hand separated from his wrist entirely, dropping to the floor in front of him. The stump sizzled, cauterized by whatever laser Bruce had used. Hal felt tears pour down his cheeks, unbearable pain burning through his arm.

The room spun, tinged in red. His head hit the floor, and everything went black.

* * *

The billionaire knelt, pulling Hal's ring from the amputated hand. He pocketed it, standing slowly. All eyes in the room were on him, horrified.

The laser in his hand was still burning. It had a yellow flame. Clark realized. Something Hal wouldn't have been able to block, even if he hadn't been surprised.

_Jesus Christ..._

"I told you to leave." Bruce said, shrugging. There wasn't a hint of remorse in his eyes. Clark swallowed his horror, unable to speak. "You still can."

Barry sped to Hal's side, watching Batman warily. He tugged at the Lantern's suit, dragging him back towards Arthur. Blood streaked the floor by his wrist, leaving a trail of gore that made Clark's stomach turn.

"You're dead, Batman," Arthur vowed, lifting his trident. This time, no one stopped him. He stepped towards the vigilante, fury in his eyes.

"Am I?" Bruce asked, tilting his head. There was the hint of a smirk on his lips--the ghost of a smile. He lifted a tablet from his belt, holding it out to the Atlantean.

"What the hell is this?"

"The exact location of twenty missile-guided submarines." Bruce dropped his hand, the tablet disappearing back into his belt. "As of ten seconds ago, they were approximately one hundred meters out from Atlantis."

Arthur was staring at the tablet, disbelief warring with outrage in his eyes.

"You'd nuke Atlantis over something like this?" he asked, horrified. His trident lowered, settling on the ground.

"No." Bruce said, casually. "But you might."

Arthur stepped backwards, seething. Behind him, Hal had woken briefly. He groaned in Barry's arms, eyes clenched shut against the pain. His muffled cries finally forced Clark into action, spurring him from his silence.

"Bruce."

The billionaire's eyes looked him up and down, calculating. And...something else? "Clark."

"Bruce, you need to stop." He stepped forward, holding his hands out. "Just--just  _stop_. Please. Stop this--"

"Are you going to beg again?" Bruce asked, smiling at him. The expression was far from reassuring; he could count on one hand the times he'd seen the other man smile as Batman. "Are you going to tell me I don't know what I'm doing, and that I can still stop? Diana said the same thing. She was just as hopeful."

Clark felt a chill go through him.

"What did you do to her?"

"What I had to." Bruce's eyes were over his shoulder, the first time he'd glanced at his children. "She was getting in the way."

"In the way of  _what_?"

"Making earth safe again," Bruce replied, looking back at him. The wide-eyed fanaticism that should have accompanied his words was suspiciously absent. He was frighteningly rational, his words calm and even. "Like you couldn't." He tilted his head, as if considering this. "No, like you  _wouldn't_."

Anger surged in his chest. He grabbed Bruce by the front of his suit, slamming him against the conference room wall. The billionaire let him, going pliant in his arms.

"I would've saved him if I could," Clark growled, feeling his eyes burn. He shoved Bruce again, desperate for him to understand. "I would've saved Dick if I could, you  _know_ that.  _Christ,_ Bruce, we all know it wasn't--"

Something clicked behind his ear, beeping faintly. A searing pain dug into his neck, forcing his limbs to his sides. A wave of nausea and pain rolled through him, the sickening sensation of Kryptonite filling his senses.

_He was goading you,_ he realized, staggering slightly as his powers were shut away. The room spun around him, threatening to send him to the floor. Bruce's body was the only thing holding him up, still braced against the wall.  _And you fell for it._

The collar closed completely around his neck, latching shut. Bruce let his hand brush Clark's jaw, holding it between his fingers.

"This one's permanent," he said, voice soft. His eyes were different now, a hint of remorse lurking in the icy blue. He tapped the collar. "Low dose Kryptonite. There's a needle embedded in your spine." He leaned in, a finger brushing the nape of his neck. Clark shivered. "Try and remove it without me, and you'll kill yourself."

Clark shook in his hand, fighting unconsciousness. Bruce's fingers slipped from his jaw. He stepped around him, finally acknowledging his children.

Jason was still lounging in his chair, apparently unphased by the sequence of events. He glanced at Damian, then stood, eyeing the billionaire.

"Well, that was  _fun_."

Damian copied his brother, bounding over to Bruce's side. He passed Barry and Hal, stil crouched on the floor. Arthur watched on, unwilling to intervene as the family headed towards the exit.

Bruce paused in the doorway, turning to examine the carnage he'd left in his wake. His eyes caught Clark's, a sliver of hesitation in his gaze.

"I told you to leave."

With that, Bruce stepped into the hallway. He slammed a hand across the control pad, locking the room. The conference room door slammed shut, fastening into place. The doorway split into pieces, scattering across the floor.

The room began to shift, drifting from the Watchtower's frame. Outside, a pair of rockets burned under their feet, pushing them towards Earth. The room had separated completely from the wing, sealing itself shut.

_He had a plan for everything,_ Clark thought, as the Watchtower grew smaller and smaller.  _Absolutely everything._

"I didn't know the conference room was an emergency pod," Arthur said, a slight tremor to his voice. He glanced out the porthole window, gaze settling on the oceans below them. "Jesus."

"I..." Clark cleared his throat, wincing as his spine burned, still acclimating to the Kryptonite. He leaned against the wall, willing his voice to remain steady. "I don't think anyone did."

They watched the Earth's approach in silence, the Watchtower disappearing into the darkness behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> More soon. Leave me a comment, and let me know what you thought!


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